The Dark & Disinteresting World
by Milesperhour
Summary: Full title: The Dark & Disinteresting World of a Psychopath's Potential Partners & Presents. There are quite a few categories for it - Some parts are dramatic & angsty, others humorous and worrying.
1. Entry into The World

Macavity is a psychopath. He has henchcats and he has victims. Most tales revolve around him.

This revolves around them and their disturbing relationship with one another.

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The Dark and Disinteresting World of a Psychopath's Potential Partners & Presents

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Chapter 1: Entry into The World

Silence is truly impossible. Imagine a world without any sounds... it's impossible. The act of thinking would incur some kind of sound. The act of breathing would make a sound - any form of movement... all of it would create some kind of sound.

Imagine a room. A room with no sounds. A grandfather clock that never ticked. A door that creaked yet so silently it could not be heard. A light that was never turned on, as that would create a noise. The room that existed yet was never touched - for whoever entered would soon go mad. No comfort, a permanent shock as the silence was forever eerie... the fear that it would be broken at any second yet never was. After all, it is not the dark that frightens people. It is the fact that they do not know what is in it. There could be a savage beast or, equally as likely, there could be simply nothing. And how terrifying it would be if there was truly nothing.

This room can be accessed too. By anyone in fact. All the person has to do is be observant, for the room is not at all hidden. The room is a trap, the worst trap of all set by the master of trickery and deceit; and the room that permanently remains hidden in plain sight. Inside every mirror there is the door. It remains unnoticed as your common sense does not want you to see it. It does not want you approach the mirror and open the door. For once the door is open, you are inside. You are inside the room that is impossible to leave. It is impossible to enter yet it is still entered. Entered by people in their dreams. For it is only in dreams that you are allowed to suffer like this... in reality it would drive you insane. Every morning you wake up and shiver, you remember that dream. In a matter of minutes it is gone.. any longer and you would not be able to stand the pain. The pain of the room.

It is impossible to escape your dreams. Dreams are things that happen and you have no control over. Neither do you have control over reality. Deja vu is when the two combine to create an end. Usually one that makes you feel a little off but you shrug your shoulders and get on with things. Of course you do. How else could you cope..? Certainly not with the truth, as the truth is impossible to escape. The moment you know the truth, the moment it is understood, it is impossible to cope. As the truth changes everything, the truth changes perceptions. He did not know. Neither does he now. He was the unlucky one, the one to be captured by his curiosity and taken into a world meant only to be accessed in his dreams, a world that could be escaped by waking up, a world that he was now a part of until he discovered the way out.

His body felt weird. Cold, even. As if every single hair on his frail figure was standing on end. He could have shivered but it was impossible to tell - his eyes darted throughout the room to see what was there.. but it was too dark. He could not see through the darkness as it pierced through his eyes and almost instantly overwhelmed him. 'Where am I..?' the thought masqueraded through his mind for a fleeting moment before vanishing into the darkness. 'What is this..?' another thought that barely lasted as long as the first. "Where am I?" The words had no echo. In fact, it was as if he hadn't even spoken them at all, after the words had left his lips, the tom wasn't even sure if he had spoken them. So he spoke again. "I said, where am I?!" He demanded this time. Yet no lights came. The same eerie feeling that indeed no words had been spoken and instead he was just mouthing them. Why? Why on earth did he believe this? It was like a spell had been cast over him, like he was out of control of himself. "Help me!" He shouted this time... nothing. This time he didn't even hear the words.

Yet he could not shake the feeling that this painful silence was not silent at all. He focussed his mind, attempting to hear the sounds that he could not hear, somehow knowing that there had to be something, as if there was nothing... that would be too frightening for him to cope. He lay there thinking, focussing, for longer than he could recall. Eventually he wasn't sure when he had begun this task, all he knew was that he was getting closer to something... anything...

There was a clock. Ticking. Tick tock... the slow ticking of the clock was quiet enough so that he could hardly hear it, yet loud enough that he soon found it echoed within his head. Was the clock even ticking? He still couldn't hear it outwardly, yet now he could hear it inwardly. It was as if someone had shoved an alarm clock inside his head... then the fear. The fear that there was an alarm clock inside his head, an alarm ready to go off at any moment and drive him to insanity. "Who's there?!" He screamed this time, trying to move but finding it impossible. Standing up came to no avail as the moment he was upon his feet, he felt as if he was on his side once more. It was an endless cycle of standing up, then standing up, then standing up - as if the room was rotating yet keeping him perfectly level, fooling his mind...

This was no trick. He was becoming painfully aware of that fact. What had he been doing last? What had led to this? Sitting on a cushion, talking to Munkustrap, trying to recall a dream... a dream. This dream. This room. The dream burned through his mind as if the alarm had just gone off, as if a thousand people were screaming inside his head, over and over, screaming and shouting at him. Nonstop and relentless, the room was overpowering him as that heinous dream had become reality. He was inside the room. He was trapped. He was the first victim.

–

"And this is for the Trophy of Death. Atticus eyes up his shot, having never played Darts before he has no idea of how to actually throw the thing, so he's lobbing it with his tail, that's a risky move, there... What do you think, Rhi-Ann?"

"I told you Kennedy, i'm not helping you commentate on a ******* game of darts."

"I could make it worth your while-"

"I'll make it worth both your whiles to shut up while I throw this ******* dart!"

"...risky move, swearing at the commentators..."

"I'm -not- a commentator..."

Atticus glanced to his left once more to see Kennedy and Rhi-Ann looking on to his position in the shared den. Why oh why did Macavity make his henchcats share dens? He had to put up with this all the time; not just when playing actual sporting activities. Kennedy would piss him off with his commentating twenty-four seven. When he wasn't commentating he was either hitting on Rhi-Ann (usually unsuccessfully) or getting pissed off his face with Kioah. Atticus couldn't help but despise Kioah – the cat was considerably better than him at pretty much everything, save being short. Atticus always won the 'being-short competitions', but he was never sure whether the others actually thought he was cool for always winning that, or if they were taking the piss...

"Kioah is narrowing his eyes, clearly perturbed as Atticus has yet to make his shot. Any thoughts, Rhi-Ann?"

"Honestly?"

"It's the best policy."

"If you keep talking i'm going to shove that cucumber you're pretending is a microphone up your ass."

"I'd rather you didn't. I've already got a garden's worth of them up there; i'm storing for the winter."

Kioah slapped his paw to his forehead and shook his head. He didn't particularly hate any of them, nor did he really like them. If anything, he just thought they were stupid – he could be spending his time much more productively if Macavity would set him loose on one of the cell mates. Why, he could try out his new move – the super-fast castration technique. He'd been trying to work it out for ages, working out the timing of the dive and the unsheathing of his claws in such a precise way to slice away one's most prized possessions. Macavity wouldn't let him though. Instead he was doomed to only occasionally get some fun and otherwise fritter his time away playing pointless games... and listening to Kennedy endlessly rabbiting on.

"Besides, Atticus is about to take his shot. The whole game resides on this one."

"No it doesn't. Kioah won a long time ago; they're just playing out the final round."

"As I said, Atticus is about to take his final shot. This is for the championship."

"Are you gonna listen to me? It ain't. It's pointless. He's gonna miss again and it's gonna hit your poster of The Coon Town Cats."

"If only I had a co-commentator who could add to this otherwise excellent coverage-"

"You're retarded, give it here!"

Rhi-Ann reached in front of Kennedy and yanked the cucumber from his paws. She sighed and brought it in front of her mouth, taking a sideways glance at her fiend as she did so. God, he was annoying. That cat never shut up, not even when she was trying to sleep. He never let her sleep. Rhi-Ann was pretty sure that it was because he wanted her, mainly because one time he had used those words alone. She'd given herself to him once or twice, but mainly it was funnier to watch him try and fail. She preferred it that way. She wasn't a big fan of Atticus either; his physical attributes were enough to make her ill and his arrogance drove her mental sometimes. She sighed once more, resigned to humouring Kennedy.

"Atticus has lost. He can't win. This shot means **** all. You're annoying."

"Thank you, Rhi-Ann. Now all we can do is watch as he..."

"Makes a ridiculously good throw."

"I've never seen someone throw a dart quite like it."

"It's gone right through Cat Geldoff's left eye."

"He's got quite an unfortunate name for a cat."

"Yes, well, his kits have got names much worse than that."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Leeches Geldoff and Lion-Lily."

"Is this political satire?"

"I'm not really sure."

Kennedy shook his head as he resigned to the fact that he was going to have to buy a new poster. He often found himself talking, if only to breathe some life into what was otherwise quite a dismal existence. He had the libido of the Rum Tum Tugger and little to no queens to exhort himself on. Rhi-Ann was the only queen he knew and she was hard work to get into bed, but those two and a half times he'd been successful... he recalled each second as it had unfolded, wonderful as they had been. That half a time was the main reason he hated Atticus as much as he did – he'd stumbled into the room drunk and interrupted them. Apparently queens have to be 'in the mood' or something like that. All Kennedy knew was that he was still in the mood when he'd finished doing all of that stuff queens want and Atticus broke it up. Kennedy really hated that fat short-arse.

"And with that miss it's Kioah to win the Trophy of the Death."

"I thought it was just 'trophy of death'. 'Trophy of -the- Death' sounds stupid."

"You're stupid."

"Yet another fantastic comeback from the master of them all, Kennedy..."

"Funny that, because I can't hear sarcasm. To me you just said that i'm awesome."

"You're a twat."

"You love me."

"About as much as I love a colonoscopy."

-

"Feeding time." The gruff voice spoke as the otherwise dark room became briefly illuminated by a bright ray of light; a hole opening to allow passage of the smallest morsels of food. As quick as it was there it was gone, plunging the cat back into darkness. His eyes had narrowed from the exposure to light; all he got to see was a flash of dirty ginger as a paw threw a bowl into the cell. Using his nose he navigated towards that spot; unable to stand due to legs weak from malnutrition and unable to crawl due to paws bound behind his back, he wriggled his body to the small amount of food. The ground didn't feel cold anymore, his body was too covered in scratches and bruises for him to feel the pain of grinding flesh against the occasional jagged stone. When he cut himself he didn't feel the bleeding. He couldn't anymore.

The smallest of journeys took forever as his weak body refused him the small amount of effort. It didn't want to carry on anymore; but his mind did. His mind wanted him to keep going... he would be rescued. He had to be rescued. That was how the Jellicles worked, right? You get caught, you get rescued. That was the deal. At least he had been under that impression. That was what Deuteronomy promised him.

Made it. With no paws to aid his eating he caught a breath and plunged his head into the bowl. Each biscuit he gorged upon and each tiny fleck of meat he devoured; it was gone within moments, yet he was sated, his tiny stomach conditioned to accept this malnutrition with an open paw. He had been living on this amount of food for so long now...

So many things had become a distant memory that he had begun to question whether they were truly real. He couldn't remember his age; life before the cell had all merged into something he couldn't quite recall. Deuteronomy was the only one he could really remember. That and his name... What was it again? He'd remember eventually... yes... he would surely remember that much. A rash movement to the side allowed him to press his head against the wall and, with his nose, feel the indents he had made long ago, when he'd been able to use his paws. Before they'd taken that away from him as well.

One vertical scratch for each day, one horizontal scratch for each week. Six vertical scratches would be met with one horizontal scratch once the seventh day was complete. He felt twenty-nine of these scratches before losing count in his head and beginning again. Just counting what he had already counted a long time ago – that was all he could do to keep his sanity. Keeping his sanity was all that he had to separate him from the other cell-cats. He had seen one of them before and it wasn't a pretty sight.

But right now, he didn't know how he looked. It was almost a year since the last time he'd been washed. He couldn't clean himself, it had become too difficult, he didn't have the energy. Cleaning his dirty fur required energy that he simply didn't have, that he couldn't muster. He recalled the events of that one time he'd been washed with trepidation; he could recall how awful it felt to see himself. His fur was wrong, not tatty anymore, just completely wrong. He had seen the cat who did this to him, seen him laughing. Those eyes he would not forget – amber eyes that pierced through him. He was a prisoner of a war that ended a long time ago, yet somehow he was still here, a cat caught in the middle of the politics between two opposing sides.

-

Macavity's compound consisted was big, really big. The upstairs areas consisted of henchcats ranging from the sublime to the ridiculous, all of whom forced to live together in shared rooms. Macavity liked to think of his henchcats as 'teams', who he pitted against each other each week. They could move up or down the 'leaderboard' depending on their performances. The fact that he compared general evil-doings to a sport was most disconcerting.

On this particular morning he entered the left corridor (that of the sane henchcats who didn't need to wear muzzle-guards) and strolled until he reached the third door on the left. He read the stickers and posters on the door, various scrawls that separated this group from the others. These cats had given themselves a team name (Toxic Waste) and had simply covered their door with things to make it colourful. Macavity shook his head as he knocked upon it twice before entering, giving the henchcats inside little warning of his entry.

Once inside he took stock of what was around him – more colours to separate the cats inside from one another. Yellow for Kioah, blue for Rhi-Ann and two different shades of red for Kennedy & Atticus. They had argued so much over who got to have red that they ended up both having it, only Kennedy's shade was slightly brighter than Atticus'. The whole thing made Macavity feel particularly odd as most henchcats despised that sort of thing. These ones were more like Jellicles than the others... though if he told them that they would probably go feral.

Right now he could have told them anything, they were all asleep. In their defence the room had no window and it was 8 am, but when Macavity wanted them awake, they would wake the heck up. He could see where they slept, watch them in their slumber, two bunk beds home to all four of them. This was getting ridiculous. Macavity cleared his throat. "Good morning, division three!" He shouted, watching all of them jump out of their skin as they woke up, each and every cat turning to glare at another and blame him (or her) for their not being awake yet.

"Oh, shut up. Get down here now." Macavity rolled his eyes as he watched the four cats struggle to their feet and climb down from their respective beds, gathering in a line in front of him. He shook his head in despair, Kennedy was clearly already itching to speak. God, that cat was annoying. Sometimes Macavity wondered why he kept these four around – they did their jobs, yes, and were quite good at them (Kioah especially) but it always had to be such a big deal. Going in to tell them of a new job would take forever. Shaking his head, Macavity gestured at Kennedy. "What is it?"

Kennedy grinned as he nudged Atticus' side, clearly happy that he had been chosen to speak, especially when he was so often teased for being boring because he spoke so much. How could he be boring if Macavity wanted to know what he had to say? The notion that Macavity was humouring him didn't even cross his mind. "Why do we have to be 'division three'? Why can't we be higher?" Of course he was bothered about the system. Kennedy always seemed to complain about the system.

So it only made sense for Macavity to respond to the question with his own comment, belittling Kennedy. "You clearly don't know how the system works." Questioning his concept of how the leaderboard worked was all Macavity could think of just then. Did he really have to go over this again?

With a yawn and a whine Kioah added to the discussion. "I'm top of the leaderboard of evil." He rightly spoke. It never really made sense to him that someone on top of the individual leaderboard of evil should be in a team that was third. He longed to be first and reap the benefits of it. Every time he tried to show off for being first on his own he got an earful about cheating from Kennedy, it was simply unavoidable.

Macavity shook his head. "Yes, but your room-mates are so far down in the rankings that it doesn't matter how good you are on your own." This was beginning to annoy him already. He wasn't in the mood to put up with this so early. He narrowed his eyes at Kioah, as if daring him to speak some more, but the tom clearly didn't get the message as he did. "Can't I just go live with Anika and Annabelle two rooms across?" His comment was met with the other three cats in the room shaking their heads and pleading for Kioah to stay.

The noise was getting far too loud for Macavity to stand anymore and he angrily stomped his foot on the ground. That got their attention and quickly all of the cats who had once been bickering were deathly quiet; the room became silent once more. "Finally. Rather than whining you should be listening. Perhaps this is your chance to go higher as a team rather than as individual cats." This time Macavity was quite clear that he didn't want anyone interrupting him and, to their credit, nobody did. "Capture someone. I want someone new... the cat in cell block 3 is beginning to bore me. That cat just won't go insane, no matter how much I taunt it."

Kennedy shook his head as he looked at his feet. The lull in conversation meant he was supposed to speak, but after that warning he didn't want to say anything that could get him an hour in the dungeon. He guessed at a response, looking up at Macavity. "Still hanging onto sanity?"

Macavity shrugged. "Yes, and it's a real bother. I must just cut off its air and be done with it." None of the henchcats around him seemed to care that he was talking about a living, breathing cat. One just like them who had been captured and kept by Macavity in a cell block. The cat had been there for eighteen years; once it had seen light, now nothing. The fact that Macavity referred to the cat as an 'it' perhaps showed his lack of care.

Rhi-Ann heard his words and grinned. She had easily picked up on the nonchalance in Macavity's voice as he talked about the cat and tried her luck with it. "Aw boss, can't we have it to play with? We could use a pet..." Owning a pet wasn't a particularly uncommon practice amongst henchcats; usually the pet was a female pollicle with a broken spirit, but it wasn't unusual for a cat to be used as a slave. Rhi-Ann considered briefly in her head how she would use a pet – most of her intentions were good but became twisted as she thought further into them. Soon she was lost in her daydreams and didn't even notice Kennedy's comment - "Yeah, our dart board is broken and we need something that darts'll stick in."

Macavity shook his head at the henchcats he was forced to put up with. Giving them a pet wouldn't particularly bother him; the cat was disposable anyway. Perhaps he could use this as a bartering tool to make them work harder than usual? "It depends how you perform, doesn't it? Only the top team in the rankings get pets." That seemed fair enough. Then when he gave them the cat anyway it would make them respect him even more.

Atticus didn't particularly care either way, but Kennedy's idea of using it as a dartboard fit very well within his mind. "I think we can manage this. You want a queen or a tom?" A simple enough question. The cat they would kitnap would be Macavity's property so they had to be sure that it was to his liking. A queen would probably put up less of a fight but a tom would be more fun to torture... it was always more enjoyable when the tom screamed like a girl.

"I don't suppose it particularly matters; both are susceptible to the most basic forms of torture." Macavity shrugged as he eyed up the cats in front of him. "I think that's all. I'll have the cat by this evening and, rest assured, if you **** this up i'll break your legs and send you to Doctor Redgrave for treatment."

The mere mention of that cat's name was enough to make all of them stand up straight and nod their heads. "Yes sir! No problem! Not gonna make a mistake!"Atticus was the first to speak and the others daren't utter anything more. Doctor Redgrave was more frightening than an hour in the dungeon; than a lifetime in the dungeon. They quickly banished the idea from their heads, preferring not to think about it.

As Macavity left the room and slammed shut the door, the cats quickly began talking. Various ideas

were uttered between them as they named different Jellicles to capture, all of them looking over one small detail which, after half an hour, Kioah realised they'd forgotten to cover and quickly said in trepidation: "...we desperately need a plan."

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Author's Note: I haven't written anything for ages but this idea was fluttering in my head and I just wanted to put it down on paper. If you liked it feel free to tell me so; i'm not sure whether to continue it or not. If there's any criticism i'm happy to take it. If there's any praise i'll have that too.


	2. The Kidnapping

A recap for those who missed the past chapter:

Atticus, Kennedy, Rhi-Ann and Kioah are four of Macavity's henchcats who live together in his great compound. Atticus is a short copper-furred tomcat whose grasp of physics just about equals his grasp of darts, but his ability to take punches makes him formidable in a fight. Kennedy is a tall and thin tom with red-fur who looks about as intimidating as a stick, though is probably the most intelligent of the group. Rhi-Ann is the only female of the four and as such is often called-upon to use sex-appeal as a weapon. Kioah is fast, murderous and wants nothing more than to kill. Unsurprisingly he is one of Macavity's top assets, but he is unable to show his true worth while stuck with this dead-end group of rejects. Nonetheless, as a team they work surprisingly well and this story is far more about them than Macavity.

The story continues as our quadruplet of evil plan for their next mission; a kidnapping from the Junkyard.

"I'm not sure how to put this..." Rhi-Ann purred as she sat in a circle with the others, looking at the sheet of paper in the middle. "...so i'll say it as simple as I can. Kennedy, if your paw moves any further along my thigh, i'll take it away from you." The tom quickly withdrew his paw and bit his lip, turning back to look at the 'plan' in front of them. Rhi-Ann sighed as she rolled her eyes; this was hardly the first time one of her compatriots had tried to make a move on her.

That short outburst had broken the silence temporarily, though sound quickly left the room once more as the four cats were left to their own thoughts. They had been discussing the new plan for about half an hour now, but all the details were yet to be ironed out. Particularly due to the fact that the plan was currently to wait until night-fall before attempting a hit-and-run kidnapping. They were torn as each cat had a different way of doing things.

The silence was broken when Kioah got to his feet. "I'm putting the kettle on." The silver-furred tom spoke as he moved towards the small kitchen-area of their room and did as he said he would. "And I still don't see why we have to be 'stealthy' about all of this. Why can't we just break down a wall or two and take what we want?"

"Hundreds of reasons." Kennedy quickly interrupted as he jumped to his feet as well. "Though saying that, I would like a chance to use my new weapon. Have you seen this yet?" He asked, already moving to his bed to get it out. Rhi-Ann rolled her eyes again as she watched him go, but was left speechless as Kennedy produced a replica of a human sword from under his bed. "Like what you see?" He asked, swinging the rapier blade with one hand. It looked like the kind of thing one might use to fence with, a very elegant weapon. Quite how he'd got his paws on this thing seemed to be a mystery, especially considering his claim: "I made it."

"**** off, you made it." Atticus spat as he picked up the plan, essentially averting his eyes. "You couldn't make a cup of tea. Speaking of which, Kioah, you making me some too?"

"Only if you both shut the **** up. If you kittens don't come up with something, i'm just gonna break the walls down and ****in' do the job my...self..." Kioah trailed off as he looked up, hearing knocking at the door. "Rhi-Ann, get the ****ing door..."

Curiousity began to spark between them as they wondered who the hell it could be. Within moments Kennedy had slid his weapon back under his bed and was back on the floor to look over the plan with Atticus. Rhi-Ann was up on her feet and brushing off her fur comparatively quickly and she opened the door without another word, though her expression sharply turned from curiosity to disgust. "Oh fu-"

"RHI-RHI!" A brown-furred cat leapt forwards and tackled the queen to the floor, giving her a big hug in exactly the way that henchcats don't. "My big cuddly Rhi-Rhi!" He purred and kissed her cheek, squeezing her just a little before being pushed off and against the floor. Both cats got to their feet and he laughed, much to her chagrin.

"So Leon, you're not dead yet? What a shame." She snidely retorted with a callous turn, moving to walk away from him and stand in the kitchen area, beside Kioah. It was safer that way, Leon was unpredictable.

"Nope, not yet. Dad says- oh, where are my manners... Kenny, Atty, come give me a big hug!" Unsurprisingly, the two cats mentioned didn't move an inch. "No? Well if one of you won't hug me i'll just have to call my Dad and he'll give y-"

"No, wait, i'll... hug you..." Kennedy grimaced as he got to his feet and walked towards the other tom, frowning as he felt two arms wrap tightly around him and near-scowling when Leon kissed him on the shoulder. "You smell warm." Leon purred as he grinned happily, one of those grins that only goes to show that you have a few screws loose. "Warm and cuddly."

Kennedy shut his eyes and tried to imagine it was someone else hugging him, though he couldn't picture any cat where this would be tolerable. He also tried to put out of his mind the fact that he was sure he could hear Rhi-Ann and Kioah giggling in the background. "What are you here for, Leon? As enjoyable as this is, I have to commit suicide in a few minutes and that's an appointment I just can't miss..."

"Oh Kenny, you are so funny!" Leon laughed before kissing the tom again, this time on the cheek. "Kenny, are you cold?" He asked, referring to the shiver that came upon the other cat after being kissed. After hearing a muffled 'no' Leon was satisfied and gave Kennedy his answer, moving just slightly to whisper in his ear. "Dad says if you don't have his cat in three hours he's gonna tie you up and give you to me to play with. And you know how much I want to play with your cock, Kenny-chan..."

As Kennedy briefly stopped breathing at those words, he found himself being released to collapse back on the floor beside Atticus. Leon laughed before turning and leaving the den, doing little other than waving 'bye-bye' to Rhi-Ann and shutting the door behind himself. It didn't take a genius to work out what the four in that room already knew, that Leon was Macavity's son, and that the 'insane' gene seemed to have been passed down quite naturally.

The silence that followed Leon's exit could best be described as similar to what one might find in deep space, at least, ignoring the thumping sound that came from Kennedy slamming his fists into the ground... and the squeaks of pain that quickly followed as he realised that he wasn't going to win a fight against the floor. You can't win a fight with a floor. Floors are relentless.

Minutes passed as nobody knew what they were supposed to say. Kennedy felt violated and was in obvious discomfort after his vicious attack on the floor; everyone else was stifling laughter. The three henchcats were caught in a game of chicken, none of them were capable of speech without laughing, an act which would likely get them a punch from Kennedy. Whoever laughed first would suffer, but as the moments wore on it seemed to get funnier and funnier, until eventually someone couldn't contain himself any longer.

Atticus' howls of laughter were in sharp contrast with the yelps of pain that followed Kennedy's fist hitting him square on the nose. "Mother****er." The red-furred tom spat as he got to his feet and stormed over to his bed, reaching under to get his make-shift sword and finding himself being sharply restrained by Kioah and Rhi-Ann. Despite countless protestations, he was unable to escape their grasp and was only relinquished when the whisping sound of the kettle boiling interrupted them.

As Kioah went to make the drinks, Rhi-Ann soothed Kennedy by sitting beside him and asking him what Leon had said to get him so riled. After a brief explanation, it became apparent that things were going to be considerably harder than first thought. Rhi-Ann's paw coaxed around Kennedy's shoulder to soothe his anger as she spoke up, looking directly at Atticus as if to blame him for laughing first. Now that she'd been given an explanation, it seemed pretty clear that things were going to have to be done differently.

After a moment, Rhi-Ann spoke up. "The facts are these. We have less than three hours to get to and from a place that takes half an hour to get to on a good day, to break into that place, to take someone from that place... which should all take a couple of hours at least... which leaves us, realistically, with half an hour to somehow work out a plan. And if we don't, poor Kennedy here loses his gay virginity to Leon."

"I have two problems with your summary of our current situation." Kioah spoke up as he passed mugs of tea between the cats. "One, if we have less than three hours, we have less than half an hour to work out a plan. And two, there's no such thing as 'gay virginity'." He stuck out his tongue as he sat beside Atticus on the floor.

"There is too." Rhi-Ann was just as childish in response by sticking out her own tongue. "What would you know, anyway? The only breasts you've fondled were your mother's when she fed you as a kitten. You haven't got a chance with any of the queens around here, 'specially not me." She said proudly, obviously unaware of how little impact those words had on the tom she was addressing.

Kioah rolled his eyes. "I won't be goaded into playing your little game. Besides, if I ****ed you I wouldn't know which virginity i'd lost. You're somewhere between the two, right? Part tom, part queen. Sure, you could carry a kitten, but could you feed it with your flat chest?" He grinned wickedly. So much for not playing her game. "Atticus has got bigger breasts than you."

"**** you." Kennedy and Atticus spat in unison, one defending his maiden, the other defending his fat. "Everyone shut the **** up. Just ****ing shut up, let me think!" Kennedy's words had little effect but his growl was enough to silence the other cats for a few minutes, leaving them all to their own thoughts, save for the sipping of tea from plastic mugs. After what seemed like an age, Kennedy gave them his solution. "We take this old school, we use our back up plan. Rhi-Ann, you cut yourself, right?"

His question was answered only by a sudden silence, a flush of cheeks and a hard punch to his arm. Rhi-Ann shuffled a little to distance between them as she looked away. It was that kind of thing that made her really hate him. Still, her silence told a lot and Kennedy seemed unperturbed. "I think it's time you showed your face in their tribe. Guess that means we can only do this once... so don't **** it up." He placed his cup on the floor and stood up. "You know what i'm thinking. Want to do this easy or hard?"

"Easy." Rhi-Ann muttered as she looked away. They had been saving this plan for at least a year, if not more and she knew exactly what that meant. If the Jellicles didn't know what she looked like it wouldn't be too hard to get inside posing as a wounded stray... which required two things. One, the various scar tissue on her wrists and two, a broken bone. Visual injuries were always more convincing than internal ones. With a brief intake of air, Rhi-Ann got to her feet and prepared for her inevitable fate. "I hope you know just how much you're going to owe me for this." She muttered, shutting her eyes so she wouldn't have to look.

"Even you wouldn't let Macavity's bastard son rape me." Kennedy responded in kind as he gripped her wrist and twisted roughly, leaving the back of her elbow quite exposed. A quick glance at Kioah was enough to tell the murderous tom to act and he wasted no time in gripping Rhi-Ann's upper arm and lower arm. Kennedy released her wrist as Kiaoh roughly snapped her bone right out of its socket. A disgusting grin smothered his cheeks as he heard that sound, coupled only by the screech of pain that left Rhi-Ann's lips. It had to be this way, the Jellicles wouldn't believe it otherwise. If only it was over.

Kioah quickly moved to bite Rhi-Ann's upper arm, his jaws piercing her flesh quickly and gifting upon her more pain, effectively bloodstaining her for effect. He watched the blood drip down her arm as he released it, licking his lips in pleasure at the taste of her blood. It was little other than disgusting, worse that he seemed to relish in it so much. His work was complete, there was no backing out of the plan now. They had their bait.

--

"I wish you'd stop complaining." Kennedy rolled his eyes as he led the approach through its final stages. They had spent the past half an hour walking through a series of underground passages and had finally emerged above ground. Rhi-Ann was still reeling in pain; complaining hardly covered it. Her arm was completely broken, the pain was intolerable. Part of her just wanted to die, the other part kept focussed on that reward. Focussed on the plan. She may have been in great pain, but it was necessary and she could get through it. Just.

"You going to that Macavity thing in a couple days?" Atticus idly asked aloud as they approached the outskirts of the Junkyard, darkness having not yet fallen they had to move slowly so as to avoid being spotted as a possible threat. It was important that they were only seen when they planned. "I mean, he made an open invitation to us all." Atticus seemed to be blithe to the fact that Kennedy wanted silence. "We could actually go this ye-"

"Shut up." Kennedy spat as he placed a paw on Rhi-Ann's back. "We're close enough for them to see you. Off you go, stick to the plan and we'll have no problems here." He raised his eyebrows at her before looking at Kioah. "Make sure there's blood, but not too much blood. Remember she's gonna need to be walking out of there tomorrow." A nod of his head and he gave the signal, allowing Rhi-Ann to start running forwards, gripping her broken arm and aiming to run right at the Junkyard.

And screaming. There was a lot of screaming. Rhi-Ann made no mistake about screaming as loud as she could as she ran, only to be tackled down to the floor soon after by her pursuer. Kioah knew to make it realistic and he clearly had no problem with that – quickly smacking the back of his paw across her face before slashing her cheek with his claws, lucky for her not deep enough to scar. Whatever solace she could take in that was quickly dashed by the sudden bite to her broken arm, another bite drawing much more blood this time and accompanying a pained scream from her. If nobody intervened soon, there wouldn't be a need for any of them to. She perfectly gave the illusion that her body wouldn't take this kind of punishment for too much longer, though that didn't take anything away from the immense pain that Kioah was deliberately causing, wanting to make her scream that much louder. Finally he felt a familiar kick to the side of the head, sending him reeling across the floor in mock agony.

The would-be saviour looked back and quickly called for more assistance, though his shout was short-lived as Kioah pushed him in the chest, having so easily got back to his feet. It had to look realistic, after all. "Get away from my dinner." Kioah spat, sending a fist deep into this particular tom's gut. "Find your own food." His deliberate words sent cogs moving in the tom's head as he responded with a few punches of his own, putting up a good enough fight for one so young. "I swear i'll kill you." He growled, eyes ablaze as Jellicles began to gather behind him, each eager for the fight. "I'll kill you, i'll ****ing kill you!" He screamed, voice cracking only a little as Kioah's voice registered so vividly in his head, so painfully familiar.

It was what could be considered a hitch in the plan, though if anything getting Pouncival involved actually made things a whole lot easier. Kioah laughed as he stood over his victim, Rhi-Ann lying motionless under him. "You know what's the worst thing?" His lip curled as the number of cats got even greater, each as unmoving as the last as none wanted to throw the first stone, or rather, to take the first hit. "I bet you don't even know the name of the tom who murdered... no, ate... your mo-"

"Enough." Munkustrap emerged through the crowd as he approached Kioah, standing toe-to-toe with the tom. "Utter another syllable and you won't have a tongue to speak with. You may be able to hurt a kitten or a defenseless queen, but how do you rate your chances against me?" He deliberately stood to block Pouncival's view of the cat, knowing full well that he was going to have to try to console him later.

"Quite good, actually. It's your army that i'm not too fond of." Kioah curled his lip as he became ever more aware that if this went on for too long Rhi-Ann was going to lose quite a lot of blood. "You gonna be a tom and fight me alone? Or better yet, let your ickle friend attempt to avenge his mother-"

His words stopped there as Munkustrap punched Kioah square in the face. That one hit sent him stumbling backwards and consequently past Rhi-Ann, allowing Munkustrap to step forwards and block off the queen. "If you want a fight, be my guest. But I promise you, when I win, and I will win, i'm going to let Pouncival enact his revenge on you. So unless you want to spend the rest of your short life in torture, I suggest you go back to whatever rock you crawled out of. Now." His speech was enough for Kioah to go, sending a few sharp glances back at the gathering of cats before disappearing into a nearby alley, making his return to the room. His job was over.

Rhi-Ann's was just beginning.

And Kennedy and Atticus... their job had been finished minutes ago. They had already made their kidnapping in such a suave and quick way that it really was criminal. The whole job had relied greatly on timing, particularly on distraction. It relied heavily on Kioah's ability to play things by ear and improvise in a heartbeat. His character had been a basic henchcat, but he had memorised a simple, painful fact about each of the Jellicles for this exact cause. With the face of the tom who'd attacked him in mind, he knew one thing – made an orphan by a cat killing, and cannibalising, his mother. A simple enough, but wonderfully exploitable, point that had made distraction a piece of cake.

With this great distraction in place, all Kennedy and Atticus had to do was use one of the various 'secret' entrances and kidnap someone. The plan didn't allow them too much time as they had to avoid being spotted, so they simply grabbed the first cat they saw and knocked her out with a swift punch to the back of the head, using this unconscious state to make the getaway so much easier. Neither cat was particularly fast, yet they found it very easy to carry a short and unconscious calico queen out of the Junkyard through the same back-exit they entered through. They had her out of there even before Munkustrap got involved in the scuffle and were long gone by the time cats began returning to the Junkyard, unwittingly carrying another enemy inside with them... though she hardly had any say in the matter. Those bite wounds from Kioah had been far too deep and, coupled with the bloodloss from earlier, Rhi-Ann had been drifting in and out of consciousness.

--

Night had fallen before Rhi-Ann came to and she woke up to find herself in a distinctly foreign environment. The place was somewhat deprived of heat, equally deprived of familiar faces. Those around her were talking in quiet voices, standing tall as she looked on from the bed she appeared to be in. A murmur coupled with a curse escaped her lips as she attempted to pull the covers over her head, failing at the first hurdle as she foolishly attempted to move her arm – that curse quickly turned into a howl as the familiar pain began to course through her. And her howl was certainly enough to attract attention.

"Good to see you're awake." Very simple words escaped a tom's mouth in a soothing voice. Plato comfortably placed himself down on a seat beside Rhi-Ann's bed. He placed his paws in his lap and gave her a weak smile. "Do you know where you are?" His question was posed very slowly, as though talking to a kitten. He had enough experience with talking to strays, though this one definitely wasn't a stray. Still, she had to give the impression that she was. And Rhi-Ann didn't want to act the part of someone with learning difficulties. It would be much easier to have another, more obvious difficulty. If she garnered enough pity, made her story that much more believable, her escape would be easier.

"No." She answered simply, biting her lip and looking in his general direction, but not directly at him. Her gaze was indirect and went past Plato's head, that coupled with her answer... there really was only one lie that she was likely to spin here. "I'm blind."


End file.
